


A bit of a tumble

by Zeckarin



Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [43]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cake, Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Gen, Good Omens Bingo 2021, Humor, Queerplatonic Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), but the hurt isn't for one of our boys, prompt : ouch, tv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29088723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeckarin/pseuds/Zeckarin
Summary: Aziraphale has some bad news for his friend.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [43]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1523585
Comments: 23
Kudos: 49





	A bit of a tumble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sammininoofthelord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammininoofthelord/gifts).



> I should be working on Februawhump, I know it^^  
> But I wanted to write this ficlet!!  
> Plus, it fits one of the bingo challenge prompts :)  
> I hope you'll enjoy!

“Crowley-?”

The demon let out an absent-minded grunt, still focussing on his laptop. He had a lot of things to check on for his current demonic wile.

“Crowley, dear? There is something I have to tell you, can you please let go of this dreadful device for a minute?”

With a long suffering sigh, the demon finally looked up. Aziraphale knew he didn’t like to be annoyed in the middle of research.

“What?” he snapped.

“I fear I have a bit of bad news, my dear,” started his friend, fiddling with his waistcoat’s buttons.

Crowley slammed his laptop closed. This was serious. “What?” he asked again in a sharp tone that would have seemed the same to anyone else except Aziraphale*.

*The angel knew every nuance of his friend’s expressions and voice. The first ‘ _what_ ’ had been annoyed. The second was concerned.

“I am afraid your neighbour took a bit of a tumble, dear boy. She broke her hip.”

The demon’s frown deepened. “Mrs Desiree?”

His friend nodded.

“Shit.” Mrs Desiree was a delightful old lady, always so nice. She’d received packages for him since he’d moved into the bookshop, and always had home-made biscuits to give him when he dropped by to check on his place in Mayfair.

He would have to visit her. Not out of _concern_ , of course. Nothing to do with that. He wasn’t _nice_. It was just the polite thing to do, right? No, scratch that, demons didn’t do polite either. But the human was useful to him (Aziraphale liked the cookies very much), so checking on her would be… manipulating her, to keep cooking him things and keeping his mail. Yes. That one was a good reason.

He should bring flowers, too. The little bastards in the bookshop’s backroom were getting a little too full of themselves and needed pruning anyway.

“I’ll go see her. Do you know where she is? When did it happen?” he asked, getting up and snatching his sunglasses on the coffee table.

Aziraphale blinked. “I expect her to be in her apartment, of course. And to answer your other question, it happened about a minute ago.”

Several long seconds stretched out while the two entities stared at each other, equally confused.

“WHAT? What do you mean, it just-- Aziraphale! Are you saying she _just_ got hurt?”

“Why, yes, obviously. Why else would I have interrupted you in your important work? She needs help, Crowley.”

“You’re-- you-- You’re _unbelievable_ ! Why didn’t you _start_ with that?” hissed the demon, rushing out to his car.

Aziraphale tilted his head and took a sip of tea. Good. The poor lady’s hip would very soon be fixed to rights. He stared at Crowley's laptop, tempted to take a look, but decided against it*.

Thwarting his friend’s wiles was always great fun, but in this instance, snooping would be taking advantage of Crowley’s good heart as well as a human’s pain.

He really hoped that poor Mrs Desiree wasn’t suffering overly much.

*Spying on each other’s demonic and angelic endeavours was a game neither of them would ever tire of. Of course they would never spoil something _important_ to the other. Most of the time, thwarting meant making a suggestion that rendered their friend’s work even more efficient**.

**And fun.

Instead, he decided to head out and buy some cakes. Crowley didn’t like eating much, but always had been partial to angel food cake. And Aziraphale always made sure to miracle some strawberries in May or June so they would stay fresh until next spring. Miracled food didn’t taste good, but miraculously _preserved_ food was fine.

His stash of strawberries was intended for exceptional occasions, but Crowley would certainly need all the support available today.

He should also prepare some cocoa. The Irish sort.

One hour later, the demon snapped the doors to the shop open and marched in with intent.

“How come you knew she was injured? Why didn’t you get there to help her? Are you keeping track of my neighbour? Did you put a spell on her?” he asked in one breath.

Aziraphale calmly folded his round (and absolutely superfluous) glasses and put them down on his desk. “Why, yes dear. I did. She is important to you, of course I keep an eye on her. And to answer your other question, I thought that a strange man entering her house would frighten the poor dear. Best for you to go there, you are a reassuring presence.” He raised his hands at his friend’s sharp intake of breath “To her, I mean! You are reassuring to her, and only because she doesn’t know how awful and dangerous you are, obviously.”

Crowley folded his arms with a pout, mollified. “I deceived her for years. One of my most devilish tricks, that.”

“Certainly, dear. Now would you want a bit of a nibble with me? I prepared cocoa.”

Aziraphale looked at his friend with his best puppy eyes, smiling beseechingly. Crowley made a show of grunting and rolling his eyes before settling on the sofa, making it clear to everyone around (a mouse and several thousands of books) that he was doing the angel a favour by accepting a slice of cake.

“So, tell me, Crowley. How is Mrs Desiree?”

“Good. Called ER and waited with her, but it appears it wasn’t very bad. She only sprained her ankle. They’ll keep her for today, and her son will come live with her for the next week. She was lucky.”

“Luck of the devil,” murmured Aziraphale with a knowing look.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” answered his friend, looking away. “I didn’t do a thing. Your spell must have misled you.”

“I am sure you are right. Well, this is a relief! How about a nice movie to celebrate that? I would even be amenable to some violence, if you insist.”

Crowley grinned. “Oh, reeaally? Never thought you were that kinky, angel!”

Aziraphale gasped, incensed. “In the _movie_ , Crowley! Really, sometimes I wonder why on earth I put up with you!”

“Nah, you love me,” replied the demon with a satisfied smile, focusing on his cake.

“That I do,” sighed his friend, shaking his head fondly. “So, about that movie. Is there anything you would want to watch? And please, not James Bond this time. I do not think I could bear to see another bond girl fall into his arms for no good reason before dying. That man should vow chastity. He should be aware that sleeping with someone is condemning them to death, by now. He’s obviously been cursed.”

Crowley spluttered. “You just can’t understand the complexity of the character! James Bond is-- he’s-- oh, just shaddap! We’ll watch something else.”

He tried to brood for a moment, but the spiked cocoa made it really difficult. “How about a movie with violence, _but_ some great female characters, immortality and even a beautiful and meaningful romance?”

“You mean like Titanic? You said that about the romance in Titanic, I remember,” accused the angel.

“Will you stop with bloody Titanic! It was a real love story, you just can’t see it!”

“There was enough room for two on that door,” mumbled the angel in his mug.

“This one will meet all your standards, I promise. Even Jane Austen would approve.”

“Oh, well. You certainly picked my interest.”

One hour later, Crowley watched in concern his friend’s frown deepening by the minute as the movie played on TV.

“You… don’t like it, angel? We can stop and watch something else if you want...”

Aziraphale set his mouth in a grim line. “I swear to God, Crowley, if Nicky or Joe dies, I will smite you until I destroy your earthly body and you will have to live in Gabriel’s corporation for the next decade.”

Crowley’s right eyebrow reached unsuspected heights. With a smile, he took a sip of wine.

“Crowley? Will they die? Crowley? Anthony J Crowley, you will answer me this instant!”

Ignoring his friend entirely, the demon refilled both of their glasses with a grin.

Life was great. 

**Author's Note:**

> Of course Aziraphale would love Joe and Nicky!!  
> Crowley does too, but you won't hear him say it out loud.
> 
> I wrote February's first prompt! And it's the first chapter of a pretty whumpy story. I really hope you'll like it, I'll post first chapter on monday of course. I am very excited to be writing it! I missed whump, ha ha^^


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